


The Fracture of the Soul

by anoonzee



Category: Murder on the Orient Express (2017), Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, TW: Suicide, archive warning may be updated, inspired: Murder on the Orient Express (2017), plotting a murder...on a train, tw: child abduction & murder, tw: miscarriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-03-02 07:48:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18806845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoonzee/pseuds/anoonzee
Summary: How did these people come together to plot the death--NO!--the execution of a soulless man whose actions caused the death of an innocent child?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> _"I have now discovered the truth of the case and it is profoundly disturbing. I have seen the fracture of the human soul; so many broken lives, so much pain and anger giving way to the poison of deep grief until one crime became many."_ Hercule Poirot, Murder on the Orient Express

_Prologue_

Miss Mary Rey Debenham looks up at the large, brown-and-white Tudor-style home and back at the cream-colored invitation in her hand. She swallows, her hands crumpling the sides of the card slightly as the memories play back again in her mind.

She had been here once before, in happier times. Before the Tragedy.

Today is the two-year anniversary. She still has strong feelings about the horrendous circumstances then, and she furiously blinks away the tears that begin to prickle at her eyes.

To think that she—a former waif from London who managed to make her way to America—would have found work with a family that eventually embraced her into their fold, only to lose them in such a swift and painful manner...

Rey takes a deep breath, pushes the painful memories to the back of her mind, and tucks the card into the pocket of her dark blue coat. She looks both ways before crossing the street. The door opens when she’s a few feet away from it.

“Good evening, Miss Debenham,” says the tall, slender man who opened the door. Save for the lightening of his sparse blond hair, Mr. Threepio was still as stuffy and polite as ever.

“Good evening, Mr. Threepio,” Rey responds politely as she steps through the door. She takes off her coat and gloves to hand over to the butler before removing her knit hat. She looks around. “Am I the only one here?”

“No Miss Debenham,” the butler replies as he hangs her coat over one of his skinny arms. “The others are in the living room. We are still waiting for one more guest to arrive.”

Rey nods. She wonders who she will see in that room. “Will he be here?” she wonders to herself.

She follows Threepio to the living room, noting how quiet the large house has become. The last time she was here, there was laughter and loud murmurs and the occasional shout. Gay music played loudly from the radio as people mingled about, celebrities and artists and business types who did not seem to mind that a simple governess like herself was allowed to converse with them. Such was the hostess who had invited them here.

The atmosphere today is so vastly different from that in her memory. A long table was backed against the wall laden with various dishes, but the eight people within barely paid attention to the generous fare, conversations muted.

It was like she attended another funeral today.

The young woman quickly scans the room and finds the person she was looking forward to seeing, standing in front of the fireplace. He just turned around when Rey stepped into the room, and their eyes meet.

Finn Arbuthnot. She hasn’t seen him in person since the funeral of the last victim of the Tragedy.

Rey swallows and walks sedately in his direction. Two years’ worth of letters were nothing compared to seeing him again, her dearest friend in that dark period. Halfway there, she nearly jumps out of her shoes when a soft hand grabs her own. Rey looks down in surprise.

“Miss Holdo!” she murmurs as the young blonde woman who took her hand stands up. “Or should I say, Countess Hux?”

“Oh, none of that, _darling_!” the younger woman drawls. In the dreary atmosphere of the room, her voice and shiny blonde bob shone like a beacon. She sways a bit on her feet, making the pale redhead beside her jump up to steady her. “I’m still Helena Holdo,” she giggles madly. “How are you, dear Miss Debenham? Still teaching that geography?”

“I’m still Rey,” the brunette replies, looking closely at Helena. “I’m all right. Yes, I still teach geography and other lessons to my charges. My employer, Mrs. Dooku, allowed me this day off. You look—well,” she says in a careful tone. “May I offer belated congratulations on your marriage?”

“Thank you; you’ve always been kind to me,” Helena gushed. She turns to the redhead beside her. “Rey, this is my _darling_ husband Armitage, tenth Count of Arkanis. Armitage, this is Rey Debenham; she used to teach me my countries and continents while she t-taught—she taught…”

The brightness in Helena fades. She chokes on the name she could not speak and turns to her husband, who immediately envelopes her in his wiry arms and whispers something into her golden curls. Rey’s lower lip wobbles.

“I know,” she whispers. To the Count, she attempts to excuse herself with, “I…”

“We will speak later in the day, when all is revealed,” he says in a crisp British accent, but not one that was unkind. He gives her an abrupt nod before leading his wife out of the room.

“All is revealed?” Rey murmurs to herself.

“Makes you wonder what this reunion is really about, doesn’t it?” asks a deep and warm voice. Rey looks up and smiles brightly; Finn Arbuthnot left the warmth of the fireplace to join her in the middle. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Miss Debenham.”

“Dr. Arbuthnot,” Rey murmurs, shaking her head and looking at him from head to toe, taking in his dark gray suit. “It’s so good to see you!” she says.

She hates it that he keeps his arms to his sides. She hates it that Finn always had to be careful in how he speaks to people who do not share the color of his skin, and that their last moments of happiness before the Tragedy had to be done in secrecy, away from judgmental eyes. The unfairness of the world rankles her so. The kindness of the people who had supported their budding romance had touched Rey--and made their untimely deaths so blasted unfair.

Moreso that the person responsible for it all had escaped to another country.

But to hell with that. Rey had witnessed firsthand that life was short, so she grabbed one of his hands and squeezed it tightly. She shocked him, she is pleased to see. She is especially pleased to note that about half the people in the room saw her actions and barely batted an eye. A small woman nods in her direction—was that Rose Tico?—while two men standing behind her look at her curiously. A tall, pale woman with a cap of near-white blonde hair even gave them a small smile. Rey nods in her direction; she knew her from before. She forgot what her first name was, but she remembered her surname: Phasma.

Rey turns to Finn. “I missed you,” she says earnestly.

Finn looks at her for a moment, then uses his free hand to cover her own and squeezes back.

“Good evening.”

Rey and Finn immediately let each other go and turn to face the speaker.

Threepio stood at the doorway. "Ladies and gentlemen, Mrs. Holdo has asked me to invite you all into the library. If you would all step this way..."

Rey and Finn look at each other before the latter gallantly offers his arm to her. Rey smiles at him before accepting his proffered arm and walking with him to the library. Rey loved this library, the three walls lined with shelves filled with books and knickknacks and the windows took up the fourth wall to let in the light. Today, however, the heavy drapes were closed and the light from a few strategically placed lamps show three more people inside the room: a slender man with close-cropped brown hair, an elderly man, and a familiar older woman.

Rey blinks, staring at the third person. This woman was the one who sent the cryptic invitation to her two weeks ago, a move that surprised Rey when she first saw it in her mailbox, for almost no one had seen nor heard from Amilyn Holdo in public since she buried her daughter, granddaughter and son-in-law two years ago.

She couldn't blame the older woman for going into seclusion. As an orphan, Rey had always wanted a family; she couldn't imagine the pain Mrs. Holdo had to endure to bury an entire family, one by one. It was probably a thousand times worse than the grief and pain Rey felt; she had been hired as the governess to this woman's grandchild, and she fell in love with the precocious little girl with the dark curls and sunny nature. The eleven months she spent in the employ of Poe and Sonia Dameron was a time of contentment and joy, for that was when she was introduced to Mr. Dameron’s friend from the army, Dr. Finn Arbuthnot.

Daisy Dameron would have been six years old today…

Amilyn Holdo stands up from the couch; time and grief had not bowed her willowy frame, and her expression exuded happiness at seeing her guests. As Rey steps closer, however, she could see the bags under Mrs. Holdo’s eyes that no amount of powder could seem to erase, and she looked thinner, too. But nothing in the way she holds herself betrayed any sort of pain, and Rey marveled at her talent. After all, Amilyn Holdo had been lauded as one of the greatest actresses of the stage, with a history that society matrons would still whisper to each other behind their fans and that younger women secretly sought to replicate.

Consider her friendship with the Princess of Alderaan, which still made people wonder what hand she had played (if any) with the Princess' escape and subsequent exile into America after the civil war tore the small principality apart. There was also her whirlwind courtship and short marriage to Jameson Holdo, a wealthy businessman twenty years her senior. Jameson died of a heart attack while Amilyn was still pregnant with her youngest child Helena, leaving her a wealthy widow with two children to care for, but that did not stop her rise to society and the arts. It seemed that nothing could stop her…

...until Tragedy struck.

“Good evening, everyone,” says Mrs. Holdo. “I am glad--grateful even--that you have accepted my invitation.” She pauses to take a deep breath, opened her mouth to say something--then stops to reconsider before continuing, “If you would all take a seat, I have something to show you.” She points to a curious device that stood in the middle of the room behind a couch, what Rey recalls to be a film projector. “I found this when I was going through my daughter Sonia’s effects and I want to share this with you before we bring in coffee and dessert.”

Rey and Finn glance before making their way to the sofa. Finn squeezes her hand as he led her to the sofa before walking towards its twin that faced it, taking a seat on it. Rey was soon joined by Amilyn and her now-composed daughter, Helena; Helena’s husband decides to sit on the floor by his wife’s feet, and they hold hands. On Rey’s other side, Miss Phasma leads a shorter woman with graying brown hair tied up in intricate waves to a stuffed armchair. Rey looks and is surprised to realize that it was Princess Leia of Alderaan.

Near the front is the tallest and broadest man she had ever seen, with black hair combed carefully back and large ears protruding from the sides of his head. Standing slightly behind him were the slender brunette man and a slightly taller man--one of the men who stared at Rey earlier when she went to hug Finn. To Rey’s surprise, the second man put his arm around the shorter man’s shoulders. Rey looks away, feeling that she was witnessing something very private.

Before Rey could look to see where the other people had situated themselves, Amilyn Holdo looks behind her and asks, “Threepio, could you please play the film?”

\--

Twelve people watch silently as a film reel plays before them.

On the screen are three individuals: a man and a woman playing with a little girl. The little family is surrounded by toys; the girl—held in the woman's lap—made a funny face as the man leaned in to wave a stuffed rabbit in her face. The only sound the audience could hear was the clacking of the film projector, but every single person in the room (save perhaps one) remembered the sound of the little girl's laughter, the voices of her parents. A few of them smile through the tears. Somewhere at the back, a woman sobs.

Remembering them like this made the reality of their loss hard to bear.

This is why Amilyn Holdo invited them here, on what would have been the little girl's sixth birthday. Two years and fourteen days ago, Daisy Dameron was snatched from the safety of her home by a monster. Her little angel, her granddaughter. An innocent life cut brutally short--on her own birthday, no less--that caused a chain reaction that lead to three more deaths and affected so many lives.

And Amilyn called them here, for she knew that they would understand. She knew the identity of the monster, but he had escaped justice; now, she has the cards. She knows who he is and where he is going. She knows the other people in this room are still suffering, but now she has the knowledge and the means to help them.

She just needs their cooperation.


	2. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All this death and grief…caused by one man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: miscarriage, homophobia (from a nasty person), child death

_(Then)_  
  
Rey looks at Amilyn Holdo in shock.  
  
The short family film finished playing some time ago. After Mr. Threepio turned on the lights and returned with a rolling tray filled with sweets and coffee, he nods to his employer before leaving the library and closing the doors behind him.  
  
And Amilyn Holdo spoke, and her proposition stunned most of her guests into silence.

Rey Debenham, ever observant, looks around the room. Six people didn't look shocked with this plan: Count Hux (unsurprisingly), the Princess of Alderaan, and the four men whom Rey did not know.  
  
The silence was broken by the rough scrape of wood on wood. Rey turns and sees Rose Tico on her feet, her face tense with a strong emotion, the scar over her left cheek showing in stark relief on her face.  
  
“You know where Daisy's killer is?” Rose asks in a low, shaky voice. “You know where that _bastard_ Orson Krennic IS? How?!”  
  
Beside Rey, Helena Hux whimpers. Her husband Armitage immediately rises to sit over the arm of the couch to hold her.  
  
Amilyn did not speak, but turns toward the slim, pale man with the brown hair. With his round face, wide eyes framed with spectacles and ill-fitting suit, Rey thought that he was so young as to be mistaken for a youth about to begin his college education.  
  
Until he takes off his glasses and begins speaking with a very _feminine_ , husky voice.  
  
“I've been hired as that bastard's secretary for weeks,” the recently revealed woman says calmly.  
  
Rose blinks. “Who are you?”  
  
The woman in the suit hesitates; the man beside her takes her hand and squeezes it. Seeming to take strength from this, the woman straightens her spine and faces everyone in the room. “My name is Jyn Erso.”  
  
Finn gives her a sharp look. “How are you related to the attorney, Galen Erso?” he asks.

Rey's eyes widened. “The District Attorney?” she gasps.

Jyn takes a deep breath before replying, “He was my father.” She takes in a shuddering breath before continuing, “My father was pressured to find a suspect during the trial, and his mistake ruined him.”  
  
“His mistake also cost the life of Jessika Pava,” adds a quaking voice. Everyone moved to look at the new speaker standing behind the projector, a man who looks shorter than Rey with slicked-back black hair. He looks at Jyn with sad, dark eyes. “My poor, sweet Jessika,” he chokes out.  
  
Jyn looks at him with equal sorrow, her green eyes filling with tears.  
  
“I'm so sorry, Dopheld—he didn't mean—he was pressured to-to..." she chokes before turning to her companion for comfort.  
  
Dopheld bows his head. “I know. We talked about this, Miss Erso.”  
  
Rey feels a terrible weight form in the pit of her stomach, realizing why Amilyn had invited them here, how carefully selected the people were in this room. Jessika Pava had been the Damerons’ maid, wrongfully convicted in the kidnap and murder of little Daisy. On the night of her conviction, Jessika hanged herself in her prison cell. To make matters worse, a few days after her suicide, a witness stepped forward with new information. A man named Orson Krennic, with known ties to the Mafia, had been spotted carrying a suspiciously wrapped bundle towards the woods; the same woods where the police would eventually find the lifeless body of little Daisy Dameron.

Upon learning of Daisy’s fate, her mother Sonia—who had been pregnant at the time—was so shocked that she went into premature labor. The shock and the excessive bleeding from the miscarriage had killed Sonia and her unborn child. In grief and despair, Poe Dameron locked himself in his study and committed suicide.

Attorney Galen Erso never recovered from the shame of his mistake. A month after Jessika's suicide, he suffered a stroke that paralyzed him. Nearly a year and a half later, Rey read his name in the obituary.

All this death and grief…caused by one man.  
  
“This is exactly why I called you all here tonight,” Amilyn says grimly. "Orson Krennic did this to us, and that son of a bitch escaped on a _technicality_.” She gestures to the large, black-haired man standing beside Jyn and her companion. “This is B—Kylo Ren; he used his Pinkerton connections to track down Krennic a year ago.”

Finn looks sharply at Kylo Ren, while Leia Organa places a hand over her mouth. Kylo ignores his scrutiny as he turns to face Amilyn’s guests.

“He's been living in Turkey under the alias of Edward Ratchett, fencing stolen goods and selling art forgeries to members of the Italian Mafia,” Kylo shares, his deep voice resonating in the room. “Poe Dameron was my friend; I owed it to him to find his daughter's killer and bring him to justice.”  
  
“What justice?” Rose scoffs bitterly. “The courts let him go on a fucking technicality, and then he bailed out of the country with the ransom money!”

“Considering his ties to the Mafia, it’s quite likely they threatened or bribed the jury to let Krennic go free,” Kylo grumbles.  
  
“This is why I invited you all here tonight,” Amilyn interjects firmly. “This is why I sent Lor San Tekka to pose as his valet and then—despite the risk to her safety—Miss Erso to pose as a man in order to become his secretary. For months, they have been informing me of Krennic's movements, and Miss Erso now has information that gives us a chance to deliver justice!”

Amilyn Holdo stares at her guests, her face pale and set with anticipation.

“The justice system failed my family and Jessika Pava. But we won't. We will succeed where the system failed.”

\---

_(Now, December 15)_

_Istanbul_

Jyn Erso looks at her reflection in the mirror over the washbasin. Looking back at her is the reflection of a pale, elfin-looking young man with wide green eyes framed with short brown hair. Lor San Tekka showed her how to style her hair with a bit of pomade, even going as far as cutting her hair himself when Krennic was asleep. He taught her so much, helping her build her persona of James McQueen, a destitute young man with a head for numbers and a flair for French and Italian.  
  
Thinking of the kindly old man made Jyn worry again, particularly after his recent checkup with his physician. What was thought as just a sore throat turned out to be a symptom of cancer; the doctor estimated that Lor had only 11 months left to live. When Lor broke the news to her in private, he ended up comforting Jyn when she broke down in tears.  
  
It was like losing her father all over again.  
  
Lor was—and is—such a comfort to her all these months while they worked for that despicable man Orson Krennic, a.k.a. Edward Ratchett. It was difficult not to give in and bash his smug face with a hard object after seeing him laugh with members of the Mafia, or make lewd comments to women who cross his path, but she managed to restrain herself.  
  
It was due to the latter that made Amilyn Holdo and Kylo Ren hesitant in bringing her in to apply for the position of Krennic's secretary.  
  
_“He's a_ **pig** _, Jyn!” Amilyn says harshly. “San Tekka corroborated Kylo's observations about...”  
  
“Do you know of any other men who can do bookkeeping AND is fluent in French like I am?” Jyn interrupts. “Do you want to waste time to look for such a paragon or do you want to waste time teaching _me _how to act?”_  
  
_Kylo Ren levels a look at her. If she wasn't so desperate and determined to do this, she would have quailed under his gaze._

 _“You do realize what you're signing up for if Krennic decides to hire you?” he asks sternly. “He's been selling art forgeries to the mafia for more than a year. He’s dangerous, Miss Erso.”_  
  
_“I don't care!” Jyn growls at him. This time, she levels a steely gaze at Kylo. “I just buried my father after he wasted away from his stroke. I promised him I would bring Orson Krennic to justice, and I WILL.”_  
  
Jyn breathes in deeply. She puts on her spectacles, adjusts her necktie, and shrugs into her jacket. She looks into the mirror to check that her hair is in place and there are no suspicious curves belying her true gender through the suit before stepping back to observe her handiwork in full.  
  
James McQueen looks back at her from the mirror: a short, bespectacled young man with a slim build and carefully styled brown hair. A few women were drawn to James McQueen, but he gently rebuffed them, leading Krennic to make crass comments about his sexuality and speculations about what he puts into his mouth.  
  
Jyn smiles grimly. If all goes to plan, Orson Krennic's mouth would be shut forever.

  
\---

 _(Port of Haifa, Israel)_  
  
Rey breathes in relief as she walks across the deck of _The Falcon_. She thought she wasn’t going to make it in time for the connecting ferry trip to Istanbul, Turkey, but a stalled engine had given her time. She walks around the boat, looking for Finn; he promised her that they would meet here _en route_ to Istanbul.

He has to be here; she just wants this time alone with him before they reach Turkey. Before…

Rey places a hand on her stomach and slowly breathes out.

He will be here. He _has_ to be here.

She decides to take a seat on a bench at the back of _The Falcon_. As she approaches the bench, she spies a figure standing at the end. As she got closer, she sees that it is a man of medium height with side-parted dark blond hair, deep-set blue eyes and a long face ending in a square jaw. What draws the eye immediately to him is a spectacular mustache gracing his upper lip.

The mustache stirs a memory in her, of an article she read before. Before she could glean more from this bit of memory, she reaches her destination and the man himself takes notice of her and nods his head, gesturing for her to take a seat on the bench. Rey smiles politely at him before taking her seat and placing her purse next to her. The man follows suit, taking the other end of the bench before sitting up perfectly straight, looking ahead while holding his cane next to his legs.

As Rey studies his profile, she immediately realizes who this man is. Despite herself, excitement bubbles up in her as she recalls the name from the newspaper article.

“I know you!” she says to the somewhat indifferent man. “I’ve read about you from the paper: you’re the detective! Kevin Two-esso.”

The man turns to her and politely says, “It is pronounced _Tuesso_ , mademoiselle.”

Rey beams at him as she extends her hand to him. He takes her hand and gallantly kisses it.

For a moment, Rey forgets the grim venture she promises to accomplish in a few days’ time. An adventure across the world and a chance meeting with a celebrity detective? How much more interesting can her life become?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's rather difficult to imagine Felicity Jones crossdressing as a man in the 1930's. Her alias, James McQueen, is a nod to the character Hector MacQueen from the book and movie _Murder On The Orient Express_.
> 
> The technicality mentioned here was how Cassetti managed to escape justice in the novel. In the 2017 movie, it was said that he escaped before he could be brought to trial.
> 
> I had deliberated on who to assign to take Hercule Poirot’s place, or to just leave a description of the detective and just call him the Detective. And then I checked the Wikipedia page for K-2SO and I found my Poirot! Basically, he’s Alan Tudyk (his voice actor) with a bushy mustache. [The greatest detective must have the greatest mustache](https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Film/MurderOnTheOrientExpress2017)!


	3. III

_“Colonel Arbuthot—Arbunot? Damn, your name's a mouthful! Can I just call you Finn?”_

Dr. Finn Arbuthnot was not sure why this memory of his first meeting with Poe played in his mind while he helped fix The Falcon's engine, but it made him smile all the same.

He met the affable Lt. Poe Dameron shortly before they fought in the Battle of St. Quentin Canal; he was just eighteen and Poe was four or five years his senior. The plan to capture the Le Catelet-Nauroy Line would have gone without a hitch if the fog had not rolled in that morning, obscuring their vision and the location of the enemy in hiding.

The battle that day was bloody. They lost a lot of good men that morning, and Finn would have added to that number if not for Poe's timely rescue.

_After dispatching the German soldier who was about to kill Finn, Poe patches up his wound the best he could and calls out to a fellow soldier._

_“He's wounded, Lor!” Poe yells. From his periphery, Finn spies an older man approach. “It's Finn! Help me get him off the field!”_

_Lor takes his feet while Poe lifts him up by the armpits. He was nearly dropped by the two men when Finn spots a flash of movement, prompting him to grab his pistol and shoot._

_The German soldier who attempted to sneak up on them falls on the ground, dead._

_“Holy shit!” Poe whispers in awe. “You got him right between the eyes!”_

_“I always did wonder why they brought a sniper to the front lines,” Lor wonders, looking at Finn._

Finn gives a mental shake of his head as he wipes his hands on the rag that the ship's crewmen offered to him. That treacherous day was the beginning of his friendship with Poe. After the war, Poe offered to help him get into medical school when he learned about Finn's ambition to become a doctor. Finn will forever be grateful to Poe for his friendship and generosity—which was why the Tragedy that had befallen him and his family hit him so hard up to this day.

He frowns as he walks up to the ship's deck. She should be here by now.

And he spots her near the stern of the vessel, seated next to a curious-looking man.

“He looks familiar,” Finn thinks to himself as he walks over to them. From what he could see of her face, Rey was charmed by her seatmate.

_Remember the plan._

\---

_(A few hours later)_

Dopheld Mitaka looks at the document in his hands. He allows himself a small smile in satisfaction.  
  
He knows all of the names in the manifest; he memorized the names by heart and made sure that everyone in the list were berthed into all of the compartments of the Calais coach. All but one…  
  
The plan was falling into place. Dopheld puts a hand over his chest and closes his eyes.  
  
His poor darling will have peace.  
  
\--  
  
Dopheld went through the motions. Move the luggage into the luggage coach, accompany the passengers to their cabins with the compliments of the Orient Express. Dopheld thought he conducted himself well when he had to lead Orson Krennic to his compartment.  
  
_Keep calm, for Jessika. Patience, Dopheld…_  
  
Perhaps he had been too stiff when he opened the door for Krennic; he didn't miss the quick look that Lor San Tekka gave him in warning. Thankfully, Krennic did not seem to notice him. His face seem to be set to permanent distaste as he looks inside his room before brushing past Dopheld to enter it.  
  
_That was close._

Dopheld decides to cool off outside the train station before returning to his post. More than half of the passengers of the Calais coach have already arrived: Miss Debenham and Miss Tico are settling in their shared cabin. Naturally, “Mr. McQueen” was already onboard, always close by with Mr. San Tekka and Krennic. Dr. Arbuthnot and Mr. Ren are having coffee and reading the newspaper in the restaurant wagon, and the Count and Countess of Arkanis arrived moments earlier before Krennic.  
  
On his walk towards the exit, Dopheld spies the figure of a tall woman in a tailored travelling dress walking with an energetic gait. He nearly trips; he almost did not recognize Amilyn Holdo walking towards him. The last time he had seen her at that dinner many months ago, she was barely holding it together, wavering between sadness and anger. Now, she walks with a bright and cheery confidence.  
  
Like a different person.  
  
Dopheld had heard of her talent on the stage, and he now bears witness to this first-hand as she beams brightly at him and holds out her ticket for his inspection. Dopheld blinks and automatically takes her ticket into his hand.  
  
“Ah, Mrs. Hubbard,” he says flawlessly, smiling at Amilyn and silently thanking his strict training. ‘Welcome to the Orient Express!”  
  
“Mrs. Hubbard” beams at him, with no trace of the grieving Amilyn Holdo in sight.  
  
\--  
  
After securing Mrs. Hubbard into her coach, Dopheld finally makes it outside of the train. It was loud and chaotic, with crowds scurrying towards the different trains, greetings and goodbyes being said and last-minute deliveries being made. He breathes out a small sigh of relief when he spies Cassian Andor heading towards the train.  
  
“Mitaka, is that you?!”  
  
Dopheld turns around at the voice of Mr. Thanisson, the very youthful director of the Orient Express. Standing next to him is a curious-looking man of medium height with dark blond hair and the largest mustache he had ever seen.

“Mitaka,” Thanisson continues. “This is my very good friend, Mr. Tuesso. It is imperative that he is given a berth on the train…”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did say that updates will be sporadic. That happens when one of my siblings get a diagnosis of cancer (FUCKING cancer). I’ve been focusing on helping her and her family and on work. It’s only recently that I got some cohesive ideas for this chapter and time to sit down and write. I cannot say when the next update will happen, but I hope it won’t take months.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [leoba](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leoba/pseuds/leoba) for giving this a read and providing me with some writing insights.
> 
> I watched **Murder on the Orient Express** during a flight, and I was struck by the idea of a FinnRey pairing based on Daisy Ridley's appearance in the film as Miss Debenham. My take on this story is the POV from the affected people, primarily Rey and Finn. As to the chapter count, I cannot say how many it will take at the moment.
> 
> I will also have to warn you that updates will be sporadic, as I am busy with work and a family issue at the time of posting this. Constructive feedback is very welcome. Thank you for reading.


End file.
